


Timeless Circle

by Cookie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookie/pseuds/Cookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin uses his magic to save Arthur and Uther, it sets in train a sequence of events that will take Arthur and Merlin on a journey they could never have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timeless Circle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moiraes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moiraes/gifts).



> Many thanks to a for the beta!
> 
> Hey moiraes - hope this meets some of the prompts you gave me and I hope you enjoy it - I had great fun writing it!

Silence reigned

There was a split second when there seemed to be a complete absence of sound before Arthur became aware of his own breathing; rapid and even panicked, if he'd dare to admit such a thing, standing still while he stared at the gold fading from his manservant’s, his friend’s, his – Merlin’s eyes.

Between them, sprawled on the floor, was the body of the assassin who'd taken the opportunity of the monthly audience to attack the King and his son. The assault had been well-planned and there had been nothing in the assassin’s demeanour to suggest his intentions as he'd approached the thrones upon which Uther and Arthur sat. The two small crossbows, primed and ready to deal their death had been concealed within the wide sleeves of the robe. All the man had to do was pull them free, aim and fire; with none of the knights close enough to protect them, and no time to draw their own weapons to defend themselves. It was a suicide attack, the assassin had no hope of leaving the chamber alive, but Arthur had witnessed the mad glint in the man’s eyes and had realised that as long as the Pendragons died, their killer did not care what happened afterwards.

Arthur had heard the cry from where Merlin had been lurking off to the side of the room. In the next shocking instant, in the periphery of Arthur's vision, he became aware of Merlin throwing out his hand, fingers splayed, and heard him shout a single word. The crossbows had burst into fire in the assassin’s hands. With an anguished scream from the assassin, the triggers had been activated but at another word from Merlin the bolts had simply turned and thudded into the body of the attacker. As Arthur turned fully to stare at Merlin he saw gold fading to blue in Merlin's eyes.

“A sorcerer! Seize him!”

Uther had found his voice and Arthur saw the red capes of the knights shift as they converged upon Merlin. Merlin, who was simply standing there and staring at Arthur as if his world had ended. In a flash, Arthur was out of his own throne and grabbed Merlin, his eyes searching out Leon and indicating to him with no more than a glance that he wanted him close.

“Take him to the dungeons and build the pyre. He will burn at dawn.” Uther’s voice was harsh and uncompromising.

There were shocked cries and murmurs from the court. As he dragged Merlin’s stumbling form towards the doors, Arthur catalogued the reactions. Morgana was slumped in her own seat, white-faced and with her hand pressed to her mouth, eyes terrified. Gwen, tears streaming down her cheeks, was trying to comfort her. Gaius was on his knees, hands pressed to his chest, with Geoffrey, worried and fluttering, hovering by him and trying to offer aid in a situation where there was no help to be had. Some of the court looked angry, some sorrowful and Arthur acknowledged just how much Merlin was liked and how he was envied, too, by courtiers, by servants, and by the townspeople all milling around within the grand hall.

Leon was at Merlin’s other side, the swirl of the capes helping to disguise the fact that the two men were helping Merlin along, rather than restraining him. Merlin stumbled and Arthur tightened his grip, turning his head slightly so he could murmur softly in Merlin’s ear.

“Do something, you idiot. Cast a damn spell or hit us, but get yourself out of here.”

“Your father will know.”

“I’ll deal with that, just get somewhere safe.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur, I’m so sorry. I never meant to deceive you-“

“Yes, you did. And you were right as it turns out. At least I can deny I knew anything and that'll help me to help you. I won’t let you burn, Merlin, I promise.”

Merlin shook his head, as if amazed at Arthur’s naivety, but Arthur was well aware that swaying his father was unlikely to work. 

“Take care of Gauis – please, Arthur, don’t let Uther hurt him.”

“Arthur,” Uther’s voice sounded just as they reached the great double doors. “Attend me.”

“Damn,” Arthur swore under his breath, especially when some of his father’s knights surrounded them. “Merlin –“

“Arthur!”

The command was not to be gainsaid. Arthur glanced at Leon. “Make sure Merlin is unharmed,” Arthur said. With one final – hopefully comforting – squeeze of Merlin’s arm, he pulled away and headed back to face Uther.

Uther had tight control of his emotions now, gesturing Arthur through to the ante-room. Arthur followed him, shaking his head at Morgana as she tried to follow. The fractious relationship between Uther and Morgana wouldn’t help Arthur in his efforts to save Merlin. This would take delicate handling and Arthur felt his heart sink as he saw the determined fury in the King’s face as Uther turned to face Arthur.

“Did you know?” Uther asked.

“I'd no idea at all. Although it does explain some of the lucky escapes I’ve had since Merlin arrived.” Sow the seeds, let Uther think of how often they’d come close to disaster. Arthur was already re-evaluating a number of close shaves and seeing Merlin’s hand in them.

Uther sighed and his fury seeming to dissipate. “I know you’re fond of the boy, Arthur; and it may be that for his own reasons up until now he has aided you. However, the law stands. He's a sorcerer and he’ll die in the morning.” He held up a commanding hand as Arthur tried to interrupt. “In acknowledgement of his actions tonight, I’ll spare him the pyre. He’ll be beheaded at dawn. It’s all I can do.”

If Uther had been raging, Arthur thought he might have been able to manipulate him, but this calmness took the wind from Arthur's sails and he was lost for words.

“Father, he’s saved us so many times. It’s so obvious now when you think of it.”

“Perhaps, but magic corrupts, Arthur, you know that. The boy must answer for his crimes, as must we all.”

Something froze inside Arthur and he struggled to maintain his composure. “Will you allow me to tell him of his sentence?”

“If you’ll give me your word of honour that you’ll not aid him in any way?”

Arthur hunted for a form of words, for anything he could say that might provide him with a loophole, but his normally quick brain seemed to have deserted him. “You have my word, Sire.”

Some of the tension seemed to ease from Uther’s frame, as if he'd not been sure of Arthur’s reaction. Arthur wondered what Uther had seen between Merlin and Arthur that might have led him to doubt Arthur; to believe Arthur might choose Merlin above his king. 

Uther was right to be suspicious, Arthur thought, only then fully aware of how quickly and easily the decision had been made. There had to be a way to save Merlin, and whatever it took he'd do it. Even at the cost of his honour. 

“When you’re done,” Uther said, “I want you to interrogate Gaius. If he’d any idea that the boy was a sorcerer, he must also be executed.” Uther’s voice was hard and his mouth had straightened to a thin line. “He’ll burn.”

Arthur thought it was just as well he was already numb, because otherwise he wasn’t sure how he could have managed to avoid showing his shock and horror at Uther’s pronouncement. All those years of loyalty were worth nothing, then? What would happen to the people of Camelot, Arthur wondered, to their trust in their King, if even Gaius wasn’t safe?

Without daring to utter another word, Arthur bowed and left.

**

To see Leon, standing straight and tall with his hand resting on the pommel of his sword in front of the entrance to the dungeons was a huge relief to Arthur. He didn’t let it show, however, aware of the cluster of guards standing to one side and he simply nodded to Leon as he walked around him and halted at the door of the cell. Merlin was huddled on the pallet, knees drawn to his chest, arms folded on top of his knees and his head down to hide his face.

“Merlin.”

At the sound of Arthur’s voice, Merlin was off the floor, striding across to the door and gripping the bars forming the barrier between them. Never in his life had Arthur more wanted to break down a door, but he was too aware of the guards close by.

Merlin stared at him, half hopeful and half wary and Arthur wondered what Merlin expected Arthur to do or say. He moved closer to the bars, placing his own hands around Merlin’s where they were curled around the metal struts, knowing his body would shield the sight from anyone watching.

“Arthur, are you all right?”

“Am I all right? Arthur said, astounded that even at a time like this, Merlin’s concern wasn’t for himself but for his prince. He leaned his own forehead against the bars and tried to steady his breathing. “Merlin, the king has decreed that you’ll die at dawn.” He ignored the sudden tremble in the fingers beneath his. “In his… mercy … because you saved our lives tonight, it's to be the axe rather than the pyre.”

“Well, looks like my good luck is holding again,” Merlin’s attempt at levity missed by a mile and Arthur tightened his grip.

“He made me give my word of honour that I wouldn’t help you escape.”

“Then you mustn’t –“

“Do you really think my honour is worth your life?” Arthur asked.

“Yes. Yes I really do,” Merlin replied, and though his voice was shaking there was no gainsaying his utter belief that it was so.

Arthur wanted to know why Merlin had so much faith in him, but it was a conversation that would have to wait for another day. Because there would be another day, of that he’d make sure – honour be damned. He met Merlin’s eyes then and knew his own determination was clear when he was met with Merlin’s patent exasperation.

“You’re cold,” Arthur said, just registering the chill in the air and the sparseness of the cell.

“I’m fine,” Merlin said.

Arthur shook his head and loosened his grip on Merlin’s fingers, hands going to his neck to unhook the clasp and swing the heavy cloak off his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asked, though it seemed clear enough to Arthur as he started feeding the material through the bars of the cell.

“Arthur, you can’t.”

Raising his eyebrows in the haughtiest manner he could, Arthur said: “I think you’ll find I can. I’m the Crown Prince, remember, I can do anything.” Except he couldn’t, and the realisation hit them both at the same time, the mood shifting back to the initial despair.

Waiting until Merlin had swathed himself in Pendragon red, Arthur reached for his hands again, lowering his voice.

“You’ll have to save yourself, Merlin. The king will have me watched – he’ll have all your friends watched. You must use your magic to save yourself. When they come for you in the morning, this cell must be empty.”

Just as determinedly, Merlin shook his head. “If the cell's empty, Uther will blame you or Gaius. I can’t take that risk, Arthur. If I manage anything, it has to happen in full view of the king, so he can see no-one's helped me.”

“Merlin – “

“No, Arthur, you know it’s true. You know it’s the only way. And I don’t even know if I’ll be able to save myself.”

“But tonight – the way you saved us? You’re incredible. You’re powerful, aren't you?” He knew he’d been unable to hide the awe in his voice.

Merlin was staring at him, expression coloured by equal parts joy and despair. “I always wanted to tell you,” he said. “But I was so scared. I can’t believe you’re accepting me, that you don’t mind that I've got magic.”

“We’ll have plenty to talk about once you’re safe,” Arthur refused to imagine that this debacle was going to end in anything other than Merlin safe and well, though for the moment he wasn’t entirely sure how it might come about. He forced himself to step away from the bars and his voice became louder. “The king's ordered me to interrogate Gaius. I’m sure he knew nothing about your sorcery.” It was as close to a reassurance as he could offer, especially as the guards had gradually been drawing nearer.

“He knew nothing, Arthur, you’re right. I hid it from everyone.”

Message received and understood. Arthur also had a vague idea as to why Uther had asked him to interrogate Gaius, rather than dragging Gaius to face Uther. There was so much history between the two men, and Arthur had the distinct sensation there was much that had been hidden from him. Arthur intended to find out what Gaius knew. He guessed Uther was relying on the long history to restrain Gaius, but Arthur was convinced that in threatening to execute Merlin, Uther had gone too far and had forfeited any lingering loyalty. For now, Arthur had to go, however much he hated leaving Merlin alone in the cell.

Merlin met his eyes, and he looked happier than the first sight Arthur had had of him when he'd arrived.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Merlin smiled. “I’ll be fine,” he said, and if his mouth quivered just a little, neither of them drew attention to it.

Arthur nodded because he could no longer speak. He paused by Sir Leon, speaking loudly to ensure the guards heard. “Take care of Merlin, Sir Leon, and ensure he gets food and drink – the same as I’ll receive. He’s to be treated well and I’ll deal personally with anyone who causes him harm. No-one should forget that tonight Merlin saved my life and the King's.”

“Of course, sire.” If Arthur had been able to he would’ve grinned at the comprehensive and threatening glance Leon cast at the guards. Instead, he gripped Leon’s forearm as a farewell and strode from the dungeons towards Gaius’ rooms.

 

**

 

Stepping quietly through the door, Arthur was faced with the sight of Gaius sitting at the table with his head in his hands. His posture reflected the same despair Arthur had witnessed in Merlin.

“Gaius.”

Gaius straightened, but did not turn and did not rise.

With a sigh, Arthur walked to the other side and sat. “I’ve told the king I’m sure you’d no notion about Merlin’s magic.”

“Sire,” Gaius hurried into speech, his eyes meeting Arthur’s then, red-rimmed and anguished. “All Merlin has done has been to protect you.”

Arthur raised a hand to halt the flow of words. “And to protect the king – which is rather ironic when it comes down to it. Gaius,” he reached forward and covered Gaius’ hands with his own. “I understand – the secrecy and the need for it. Some of the things we’ve faced, some of the victories we’ve achieved; so many of them shouldn’t have been possible, we shouldn’t have escaped so easily. We wouldn’t have – if not for Merlin’s magic and your guidance and support.”

For a moment Arthur thought Gaius would be unmanned and would weep, but thankfully he controlled his emotion and instead shifted a hand to cover Arthur’s own.

“He wanted to tell you, and I counselled him against it.”

“You were right. I faced the king tonight and could speak honestly that I’d no idea. Seems Merlin was better at keeping secrets than I could’ve believed.” 

Despite the situation, the two men shared a smile.

Gaius soon sobered. “What can we do?”

Arthur shook his head. “We’re going to have to rely on Merlin to get himself out of this. He refuses to do anything tonight in case the king blames us. Gaius, how powerful is he? Can he save himself?”

“There are some who believe Merlin's the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth, that he has a destiny; a destiny to help you become a great king.”

“Is that the only reason he stays?” Arthur hoped he’d managed to cover his sudden wrenching disappointment.

“Oh, no. If Merlin didn’t feel you were worthy, he wouldn’t be here. You have his loyalty and his love, Arthur, make no mistake about that.”

Something eased inside Arthur and he dredged up a smile for Gaius, unwilling to admit even to himself how those words warmed him, how something that had been smouldering for a long time suddenly caught flame within him. 

“My question still stands, Gaius. Is Merlin powerful enough to save himself?”

“He's got the power, there’s no doubt of that – I’ve never seen any like him. It’s whether he can channel his power in time.”

Arthur nodded. “In that case I’ll be prepared to take him and run –“

“Arthur –“

“No, Gaius. I know what the consequences are, but I’ll not let Merlin die.”

**

Arthur was exhausted by the time he made it back to his own chamber, and the last thing he wanted to be faced with was a distraught Morgana. Gwen was there, too, hovering at the side of the room, her expression matching Morgana’s but overlain with an added layer of concern for her mistress. Arthur bowed to the inevitable. He pulled another chair up to the fireside and with an irritated gesture, shooed Gwen towards it. He poured three goblets of wine, serving the women and ignoring Gwen’s shocked horror at being served wine by the Prince, before he took up his own goblet and joined them.

A few moments of silence passed as Arthur stared broodingly at the flickering flames of the fire, and felt amusement despite the situation at the sight of Gwen perched so properly on the edge of the seat.

Morgana broke the silence. “What are you going to do?” Her tone was harsh. 

“Whatever I have to, Morgana.”

“And what is that?” she asked.

He stared down into the ruby liquid, swirling it thoughtfully before taking a sip. “What do you want me to say? Merlin's a sorcerer. Whatever happens tomorrow, he can't stay in Camelot.”

The tension in the room was palpable, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Arthur glanced at Morgana, concerned at the particular mix of worry and fear that signalled Morgana at her most volatile. 

The silence this time was disturbed by Gwen. “I’d no idea. Imagine Merlin being a sorcerer. I mean, I know he even admitted it but I still can’t quite believe it.” 

She lapsed into silence once again and this time it seemed thick and impenetrable as they all struggled to come to terms with new knowledge about someone they’d all thought they knew well. None of them moved, and they spent the night in a quiet vigil, all of them thinking of Merlin and one another, and none of them able to find the words to discuss it openly.

 

**

 

The sun had barely risen enough to spill light like blood across the cobbled yard when they brought Merlin out. Arthur felt so much emotion rushing through him at the sight that he struggled to contain it. Uther had insisted upon Arthur’s presence on the balcony, and Arthur wasn’t sure whether his reason was to do with demonstrating the solidarity of the throne or Uther’s mistrust of Arthur.

Arthur didn’t care either way. He blinked as he stared down, pride in Merlin warring with gut-wrenching panic. He'd wanted to be in the courtyard, to be able to go to Merlin's rescue if he had to, but Uther had pre-empted him, not even allowing him to talk to Leon before he'd insisted on Arthur joining him. Now, all Arthur could do was pray to every God and Goddess he'd ever heard of, begging them to help Merlin, to get him out of this.

Gaius and Gwen were among the silent crowd; holding onto one another. Morgana, after a screaming match with Uther, had been locked in her chamber.

For all that Merlin was walking steadily towards the platform, it was clear to those that knew him, like Arthur knew him, that Merlin was terrified. 

Arthur held his breath as Merlin ascended the steps and faced the looming bulk of the hooded executioner. He exchanged a few words with the man who was supposed to kill him and even managed a grin when the man shook his head. Arthur read Merlin’s lips clearly, his eyes fixed to the movement of Merlin’s mouth.

‘You mustn't worry about it.’

Typical Merlin, seeking to reassure the man who was about to decapitate him. Arthur couldn’t tear his eyes from the scene, but in the periphery of his sight he was aware of Leon, moving to stand at the other side of Gaius; ready to catch him, Arthur thought.

Uther was tense and was containing more fury than Arthur had ever witnessed. The silent, unmoving crowd, the uneasiness of the knights, Merlin’s own demeanour, made this so different from any other execution. Uther could feel it, but couldn’t understand it – that was clear.

In an attempt to regain control, Uther spoke. “You have used sorcery in front of the Court of Camelot. In law, the penalty for such crimes is death. I acknowledge that in this case you used your corrupt power to kill an assassin who threatened us, but even so your sentence must stand. In my mercy, I've spared you the pyre –“

Merlin snorted, and despite the terror and horror of the situation, Arthur felt hysterical laughter bubbling up. That was just so Merlin.

Before Uther could continue, Merlin spoke.

“My magic is no crime; it's no curse. I wield it to serve my King – but that King isn't you, Uther Pendragon.” Merlin shifted his focus then, and from staring down Uther, he turned towards Arthur and for the first time in Arthur’s memory, Merlin bowed low before him. “Your Majesty,” he said, his clear voice reaching every corner and every ear. “Everything I am, every power that I have, is for you, Arthur. I will serve and … and love you until my last breath.” He stumbled a little on the declaration of love, but met Arthur’s eyes steadily.

Arthur couldn’t help it; he smiled and for a moment time itself seemed to pause. A rosy glow touched Merlin’s cheeks and Arthur’s smile widened, matched by Merlin’s as their silent exchange took place.

Even Uther seemed transfixed, unable to regain control, though his colour and temper both were high.

Eventually, Merlin broke their locked gaze and then had the utter gall to look at Uther and grin. “Oh, by the way – that whole ‘until my last breath’ bit? That isn't going to be today.”

Arthur’s gloved hands gripped the balustrade hard and he spoke for the first time. “Be safe, Merlin,” he said, ensuring his own voice was clear and would carry across the gathered populace; so they’d all know.

Merlin’s grin widened and then with a single word his eyes flashed bright, gold, beautiful, before he was obscured by a pillar of swirling wind.

Merlin was gone.

Beneath their feet, as if the earth itself protested, a roar rumbled through the ground. The king started, the red bloom of anger swept away by grey-white. Without a word, Uther turned away and left Arthur standing alone.

Arthur stared down at his people, at the faces raised to him and he knew his voice expressed his own satisfaction. “There will be no execution today, it seems. Let us all be about our business.”

The tension in the air eased and a murmur of shocked conversation brought home to Arthur just how silent the crowd had been through the scenes they’d witnessed. It had been something shattering, Arthur knew: the schism in the house Pendragon, Merlin’s treason as he discounted Uther’s rule. Arthur took a deep breath and turned away to begin to deal with the repercussions.

As he walked through the castle corridors he prayed again; for Merlin’s safety and that they’d see one another again.

**

“Yes, dear, I've remembered that the Hamiltons are coming for dinner. Yes, dear, I'll pick up half a dozen bottles of assorted wine because we know they drink like fish. I have to go now, my mystery man's waking up. Love you, too, Mrs Muirden.”

It was a soothing voice, warm and friendly and good to wake up to, helping to ameliorate the impending panic when he realised he didn’t know where he was – and worse – he could get no grasp of who he was either. His breathing picked up as panic crawled through him, tightening his chest.

“Easy there, my lad. Easy. Are you back with us?”

The voice was closer and he unglued his eyelids, forcing them open until he could see the man looming over him.

Startled suddenly, he scrambled up and back, blinking against the white glare that seemed to surround him.

“You’re safe. I promise you’re safe. I’m Doctor Muirden and I’m looking after you.”

“I don’t … I don’t remember.” He shook his head, fear and panic now seething . “I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember where I am or what time of year it is. I can’t … my name. What’s my name?”

“Oh dear.”

His breath came in short pants as he desperately tried to pull air into his lungs and he saw Muirden’s eyes widen.

“Easy now.”

For some reason he didn’t want Muirden to touch him, though the man’s eyes were kind and concerned. 

As Muirden spoke, his hands were busy and the next thing he was aware of was a sharp prick on his arm.

“What've you done? What’s that?” He struggled to get the words out.

“Just something to calm you down a little. Then we can talk and see if we can answer some of your questions. All right?”

The tight band around his chest was already beginning to ease and he took a deep breath, even more reassured perhaps when Muirden pulled a chair up beside the bed, sat down and waited. As he calmed down, Muirden spoke quietly.

“It’s good to have a chance to sit down, I must say. My wife always says I don’t stay still for long enough, but being a doctor is a busy life. How are you feeling now? Calmer?”

He nodded.

“It’s the 8th of September 2012. You were found in the middle of the countryside out by South Cadbury and brought to the hospital in Yeovil. You’ve nothing on you that tells us your name or where you’re from. You’re fit and healthy as far as we can gather. We did a scan because you were unconscious for so long, but everything looks tickety boo – fine.”

He stared in some bemusement, not understanding everything that was being said but getting enough of a gist. For some reason he was more staggered by the date than anything else.

“Why can’t I remember?”

Muirden shrugged. “The mind's a curious thing,” he said. “Don’t worry too much. We’ll put your details out and see what happens. Your memory could return at any time. Rest and not worrying is the best thing you can do.”

Rest seemed to be on the cards whether he wanted it to be or not, and he felt his eyes closing, lulled to sleep by Muirden’s calm voice recounting some ridiculous tale about his youngest daughter and a horse.

 

**

 

Arthur had passed a sleepless night and was already dressed when he recognised Gaius’ knock. Arthur bid him enter and without speaking, he pulled out a chair and urged Gaius into it.

As soon as they were both settled, Gauis spoke, “Arthur, there are things you don’t know. There are a number of matters I gave Uther my word that I’d never speak of to you or anyone else. They are matters that concern you and concern magic.” 

There was a long silence while Gaius clearly struggled with his conscience and Arthur, despite his impatience, didn’t hurry him, realising that whatever choice Gaius made now would be instrumental in what happened next.

Gaius sighed. “I don’t break my vow lightly, but Uther has broken faith with his people, he has misled you, and he would’ve had the son of my heart killed even though Merlin saved his life. I can no longer follow him. As Merlin's done, I acknowledge you as my king. Your Majesty.”  
With that, to Arthur’s shock, Gaius moved from the seat to kneel before him.

“I offer you my life and my fealty Arthur, King. If you’ll accept an old man’s loyalty.”

Arthur knew a moment of utter panic; the sense of standing on the edge of a precipice. He could step back, call the guards and denounce Gaius’ treachery to Uther, or he could accept what he was being offered and acknowledge what that meant for his relationship with his father – and for the kingdom. The memory of Merlin saving him and Uther surfaced, as it had many times during his restless night, and his decision was made.

Standing, he reached down and placed his hands on Gaius’ shoulders, leaning forward and kissing Gaius’ forehead as he accepted his fealty, then he urged him to his feet and settled him in the seat once again.

“Now tell me, Gaius. Everything.”

“I will, Sire, but first I think there’s something you need to see.”

 

**

 

Arthur blinked and just refrained from actually rubbing his eyes.

“I thought you would be taller, little Prince.” 

“You’re a dragon.”

“You noticed.”

Arthur shook his head, ignoring the mocking tone and cutting straight to the chase. “Do you know where Merlin is?”

“Why would I tell you? Why would I betray him to a Pendragon?” The great head turned until Gaius was the one pinned under the gimlet gaze. “ _I_ will not betray my kin.”

Gaius bowed his head and Arthur wondered what was behind the pointed comment, but he didn’t have time to find out and made a mental note to explore it with Gaius later. There was too much he didn’t know and he knew he’d need that information if he was to – He halted the thought, not wanting to consider what was going to happen over the next few weeks.

Arthur returned his attention to the dragon. “I’m not my father. There’s much that has been hidden from me but Gaius has sworn allegiance to me and he’ll tell me everything. My concern now is to find Merlin and ensure he’s safe and can come home. I’ll allow no harm to come to him. Will you help me?”

“I will not serve a Pendragon.”

“Merlin is a powerful sorcerer, isn’t he?” Arthur asked Gaius.

“The most powerful I’ve ever seen.”

“He was born to serve you,” the dragon took up the tale, as if he couldn't help himself. “You are the Once and Future King and you are as two halves of one whole. Will you stand with him against Uther?”

Arthur stepped back so he could meet the forbidding gaze straight on. He lifted his chin. “I will.”

The dragon regarded him for a long moment, and Arthur’s gaze didn’t waver. 

“So be it.”

There was a solemnity to the moment, and if Arthur had more time at his disposal, he might’ve taken the time to appreciate it, but as it was, his need to find Merlin pushed him into speech.

“Do you know where Merlin's gone?”

“No, I do not,” the dragon sounded troubled. “He's travelled beyond my reach – and I do not know what that means. What spell did he use?”

Arthur turned to Gaius. “Did you hear what Merlin said before he disappeared?”

Gaius was staring up at the bulk of the dragon and there was dawning horror in his eyes. “Oh, dear. Oh, my dear, silly boy.”

“What?” Arthur asked, beginning to lose patience.

Gaius spoke to the dragon. “I think he meant to say onward – but he said forward. He said forward.”

**

“So, what do you think?”

It’d been three weeks since he’d arrived at the hospital, and in that time his memory hadn’t returned. After a long conversation with Doctor Muirden, he’d settled on the name Tom for the time being. He knew it wasn’t his real name, and there was a lingering sense of sorrow and guilt when he thought of it, but at least there was also a warmth, too. It would do for now.

Edwin, as Doctor Muirden now insisted he call him, had been both generous and kind. When Tom had been released from hospital, Edwin had taken him into his home, pulling him into the bosom of his large, chaotic, loving family and treating him just like one of his own. He’d even gone out of his way to help Tom find both a job and this small bedsit. While assuring Tom he was welcome to stay with the family as long as he wished, Edwin seemed to realise Tom needed to feel self-sufficient. Despite his wish for independence, Hannah, Edwin’s wife, and the two older of his four daughters had taken great delight in kitting the place out for him. Tom looked around; at the colourful spread and mound of cushions on the sofabed, the bright pottery on the kitchen counter off to the side. He stared curiously at the range of pictures on the wall, swallowing suddenly when he realised there were six, and each was signed by a different member of the family. There was a seventh at the side of the fireplace and he laughed aloud when he saw bright red paw prints, obviously made by the family’s mad cocker spaniel.

“Why are you doing this?” Tom asked suddenly. “You can’t possibly do this for all your patients.”

“No, unfortunately I don’t usually have the time for such luxuries.” Edwin was silent for a few moments. “A couple of months ago I was out with Dilly on her evening walk.” They exchanged an amused look; walking Dilly was always an adventure as it didn’t matter how complicated the harness they bought, she’d a real talent for escapology. “She disappeared as she does, then back she trotted, with an elderly gentleman in tow. I thought he was a tramp at first, although he was clean enough and Dilly seemed to like him. She’s a discerning animal as you know.”

Tom laughed out loud. When he’d first arrived at their house, Edwin had explained about the family dog, telling Tom she tended to be nervous of strangers. Tom had gone in, sat down and to the amazement of all the family, had been subject to an enthusiastic welcome from the spaniel, culminating in her sitting on his lap and trying to lick him to death.

Edwin finally stopped chuckling at the memory. “Anyway, he stood there and looked at me for a moment. And then he told me that sometime soon a young man would be brought in from the countryside; that he wouldn’t know who he was, but I should help him as much as I could. It was the strangest thing. He said if I did that, then all the sins of my blood would be appeased.” Edwin smiled. “I wanted to dismiss him as a crazy old man, but there was something about him that demanded attention. And then of course I met you. He even described you, you know - tall, slim, dark-haired.” Edwin hesitated at that point.

Tom noticed the hesitation and was certain the old man must have mentioned his ears. “So he must know me?”

“I assume so. He didn’t tell me your name, though, and he hasn’t come forward either. I’m sorry, Tom.”

Tom shrugged. “You couldn’t know. Creepy – all that stuff about sins of the blood.” He looked around once more and smiled. “This is wonderful. Will you thank them all for me?”

“You can thank them yourself on Sunday. You’ll be round for lunch, won’t you?”

“I’d like that. Thank you for everything.”

“It really has been a pleasure. Good luck with the job tomorrow. Call and let us know how you get on. Hannah and the girls will worry until they hear.”

“I’ll do my best, but you know how I am with phones.”

Edwin chuckled. “Yes, anyone would think you’d never seen one before. I’ll leave you to get settled in now.” He reached out and squeezed a thin shoulder, and then was gone.

Tom stood in the middle of the space and wondered why, even after staying with the Muirdens in their gracious home, this small space still seemed luxurious. They’d looked after him well, coping with his panic as his memory didn’t return and he appeared incapable of carrying out the simplest of tasks. Edwin’s wife had mothered him in a way that was familiar and he’d been slotted into their family and accepted in a way that often brought a lump to his throat.

He was adapting and learning, he knew, but there was a still a part of him that always felt hungry; a void at the core of him and an absence at the heart of him and he wondered if those would ever be filled again.

**

“He’s not much help, is he?” Arthur said, slowing his step to match Gaius’ and trying not to show his impatience at their slow progress.

“That’s usually what Merlin says, too.”

Arthur smiled as he imagined what Merlin might say about the dragon’s slightly malicious and cryptic utterings. He opened the door to his chambers and ushered Gaius inside, waiting until Gaius was settled before demanding. “Now, I think it’s time you told me everything. And what was the dragon talking about when he said we needed to talk to the witch. What witch?” Arthur recalled Gaius’ reaction when the dragon had made that pronouncement.

It was a long conversation and Arthur experienced more emotion in a single morning than he’d ever known. Betrayal, anger – at everyone in his life, it seemed – guilt, shame at his treatment of Merlin, and his inaction in the face of Uther’s persecution of those with magic, horror at what his father had done in the name of love, and so much more. His life felt as if it had been built on shifting sands, but he faced it all and searched for the way through. For once, he set his own pride aside, seeing Uther as a flawed man for the first time and accepting that he needed to reassess his own character and actions in that light. 

When Gaius finished speaking it looked as if a weight had sloughed off him. He met Arthur’s eyes fearlessly, as if he’d finally made peace with himself. Arthur envied him that. Gaius had told him everything – about the place magic used to have in Camelot; about its use in his conception, and in Uther’s devastating response when it had gone wrong and Ygraine died. The most difficult part of the conversation for Arthur, was the discussion of Morgause and what she'd done – and Merlin’s actions in denying magic.

“So you don't know if it was truly my mother I saw?”

“I think Morgause was manipulating you – as to anything else, I can’t say. Arthur, there's something else.” Gaius paused and Arthur waited as patiently as he could for him to continue. “Morgause gave Morgana a bracelet; a bracelet that carries the mark of the House of Gorlois. I believe she and Morgana may be half-sisters.”

That was almost too much to take in. To give himself some time to work through the revelations, and to try and avoid thinking too much of the implications of what Gaius had said about Morgana, Arthur went to the door of his chambers and sent a passing servant for food and wine. Another servant appeared with a summons from Uther and Arthur sent him back with a message to say he was otherwise engaged. Refusing the king would not go down well, but Arthur no longer cared. For the moment, he needed a little time to get his thoughts in order, and then he needed to find out how to get Merlin back where he belonged. _By my side._

Once Arthur was sure Gaius had eaten his fill, and he himself had managed to find some equilibrium, he poured more wine and said. “You’ve still not explained what the dragon said about the witch. Or offered any thoughts on how we might find Merlin.” Arthur tried not to let his worry leach through into his words and to sound calmer than he felt, but the lightning glance cast his way by Gaius was enough to indicate his failure there.

“The witch. Yes. I’m afraid the dragon is talking about Morgana.”

Arthur sprayed his mouthful of wine across the room, coughing and spluttering. When he could finally find his voice again, it was full of disbelief.

“Morgana?” It was then the memory of her fear slipped into his memory, of her defence of magic users, of the way she’d seemed both angry at Merlin and afraid for him. He scrubbed his free hand through his hair, and glared at Gaius. “Anything else you need to tell me?”

Gaius sighed. “Just this, I suppose,” and at a muttered word and a slight flare of gold in his eyes, the fire burst to life in the hearth.

Arthur stared at the flames for some time. “My father must’ve known you have magic.”

“Yes, I made him an oath never to use it. It seems like a day for breaking oaths to him. I’ve never been very strong and preferred to use it for healing when I did use it.”

“If you’d used your magic through the years, are there people who died who might otherwise have lived?” Arthur was curious.

“There’s no way of knowing. I try not to think about it.” 

Gaius’ mouth closed with a snap and it was clear he didn’t want to discuss it. Arthur raised his eyebrows but let the dismissal stand. To Gaius’ obvious relief, a knock at the door interrupted them and at Arthur’s command servants entered to clear the table.

“Leave the wine. Bring more and another two goblets. Find the Lady Morgana and her maid and ask them to attend me here immediately.”

“Sire, the King has ordered that she be kept to her chambers.”

“I’ll talk to the King. Do my bidding.”

 

**

When Morgana entered there was a touch of colour in her normally pale cheeks and her eyes were sparkling with temper. Gwen trailed in behind her and this time appeared more relaxed as Arthur gestured at her to take a seat and then he served them all with some watered wine.

“Do you know there’s a dragon under the castle?” Arthur asked.

Both Morgana and Gwen stared at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses.

“It’s true – that’s what you heard when Merlin disappeared. The dragon wasn’t very amused. He’s also not very helpful but he seems to think that you can help us find Merlin, Morgana.”

The goblet almost slipped from her fingers, but Arthur had been expecting some reaction and leaned forward to take it from her nerveless fingers, watching and waiting as she twisted her hands together in her lap.

“The time for secrets is past, Morgana. I’ll protect you, I promise.”

Gwen reached out and covered Morgana’s hands with her own, work- hardened fingers a contrast with Morgana’s soft, pale skin as she interweaved their fingers. “My Lady, I think I’d guessed. All those bad dreams.”

Morgana stared down at their joined hands for a moment, before looking up to meet Arthur’s eyes. What she saw there seemed to reassure her in some way and she took a deep breath, untangling her fingers and patting Gwen’s hand before she released her. With a gracious nod, she accepted the goblet Arthur held out to her and took a deep drink.

“I’m a seer. My dreams aren't just dreams – they’re portents.” Her voice shook suddenly. “I can’t believe Merlin had magic and didn’t help me.” There was a sudden fury of hurt in her eyes.

“My Lady Morgana,” Gaius spoke then. “That was my doing. I was afraid for you both and counselled Merlin several times against telling you – or you, Arthur, about Merlin’s own magic. He wanted to help you, Morgana, but I hoped the potions would stop the visions and you’d never find out what you are.”

“And what am I, Gaius? A freak? Something evil?”

“No, Morgana,” It was Arthur who broke into her increasingly angry tirade. “You’re a sorceress – and the dragon told Merlin that you’re coming into your power. You’re not a freak and you’ll only be evil if you choose to be.” He paused for a moment to let the word sink in, hoping they would be enough to calm her anger. “Morgana, we’ve all been lost in misinformation and secrets and fear and guilt. We need to let it all go and look forward. According to Gaius, the damn dragon has been telling Merlin that you need to die, and that he should’ve let the Druid boy die, too. Apparently I’ve a destiny that Merlin's supposed to help me reach and you and the boy are my ultimate downfall.”

There was no doubting Morgana’s shock. “Arthur, I’d never –“

Arthur’s raised hand stopped her. “At this point in time, I couldn’t imagine you ever wanting to hurt me or Camelot. There’s no doubting you can hold a grudge, though, and if enough things happened to push you… well, you’d be a powerful and implacable enemy, wouldn’t you?”

She met his eyes, considering his words. Eventually, she sighed. “What’s the point of all this, then, if it’s pre-ordained?”

“Because the dragon is old and embittered. Because I refuse to believe that the woman I love like a sister will travel that path. Because I believe we make our own destiny. Because it’s time I stepped out from my father’s shadow and became my own man. Because I want a bright future for my land and my people – and I want you to help me achieve that. Will you help me, Morgana?”

She smiled at him, a twist of her lips. “You almost sounded like a king there.” She took a deep breath and held out the goblet. “Let’s have some more wine. The dragon may believe I can help, but I’ve no idea what he thinks I can do.”

There was a palpable release of tension in the room and it was Gwen this time who jumped up and served them, and Arthur didn't miss the way her hand squeezed Morgana’s shoulder in passing.

“We think Merlin has sent himself forward in time.” Arthur said as they settled again. “We need someone with enough knowledge of magic to help us reach him. Have you had any contact with Morgause?”

Morgana started. “Why do you ask that?”

Gaius answered. “Arthur has said there have been too many secrets – and he’s right. The healing bracelet Morgause gave you is from the House of Gorlois. I believe Morgause is your half-sister, and that your magic comes through the mother you shared. Morgause is a sorceress of great power.”

“Do you think she'd ally with us, and help us find Merlin?” Arthur asked. 

Morgana’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know she’d be safe if she came here?”

“You’ve my oath that she’d come to no harm – unless she attacks myself or Camelot – in which case I'd defend myself.”

“Why didn’t she tell me I was her sister?” Morgana sounded almost lost.

“For the same reason we tried to keep your magic at bay, and I’ll warrant why she gave you the bracelet that does the same – to keep you safe.” Arthur gentled his own voice, too aware of Morgana’s volatile nature. “All that is at an end now. From now on there will be no lies – for whatever reason – no half-truths and no deceptions. For us to succeed we need to work together and trust one another. You’re not a child, Morgana, nor are you weak, and I have no intention of treating you thus.”

“All this to get Merlin back?” There was a look in her eyes that promised endless teasing.

Arthur half-grinned, and then sobered. “That – and all the rest. It’s been clear to me for some time that something was wrong in Camelot – I thought it was because of the magical attacks. On reflection, it’s more to do with the absence of magic, isn’t it?” He looked at Gaius.

“Magic is a part of the way the land works, sire. If you seek to deny it, then the land itself suffers. It’s the reason the Old Religion is so tied to the seasons.”

“It’s what I guessed.” He glanced at Gaius and said simply. “I think it’s partly why I’m not angry at Merlin – I think some part of me recognised him and what he was. His power has been protecting us all. I need him back, because I intend to return magic to the heart of Camelot.”

 

**

 

“And that’s your change. You have a good day, now.” Tom smiled at the woman on the other side of the counter and her stern, distracted expression melted into an answering smile as she took her leave.

“You’re getting really good at that. You haven’t messed up the till once today.”

Tom laughed at his co-worker, “Careful, Jenny, it’s not even lunch-time yet – you’ll put a hex on me.”

“A hex?” Jenny was the supervisor on the cards and gifts department Tom had found himself working in. 

Jenny was bright, young and pretty and a couple of the other casual workers taken on for Christmas had groused about Tom ending up working for her when he obviously wasn’t the least bit interested. Tom hadn’t understood half their references and when he'd shrugged and seemed unconcerned, they'd left him alone.

“You know – a curse,” As he said the word, something seemed to uncurl in his gut, a feeling he'd become more and more aware of. 

“Oh, right.” 

Jenny turned away to deal with another customer and Tom looked around the space and headed over to a pile of scattered merchandise to tidy it up while keeping his eye out for anyone who might need his help.

On his first day at the department store in Taunton he, along with the rest of the temporary recruits, had been shown round the different areas. The woman in charge had taken one look at Tom’s doubtful stare and extra-careful progress through the china and glass section, and had immediately handed him over to Jenny, for which Tom was grateful. Even so, it had seemed to take twice as long as the others for him to pick up all the procedures, and how to work the till, and he was aware it was only his way with the customers and a solid work ethic that had saved him during those first couple of weeks. He heaved a sigh of relief and approached an elderly woman who appeared to be having difficulty, offering his help.

When his working day ended, he cycled back to his flat and showered before a car horn sounded and he clattered down the stairs and into the car, grinning at Becky Muirden.

“You’ve got taxi duty, this evening? I could've cycled.”

“No, way – we’ve seen you on a bike, remember!”

“It wasn’t that bad. And I've really got the hang of it now.”

“Tom – we have it on film – and it'll always be funny.”

Edwin had been quite surprised that Tom didn’t seem to have ridden a bike before and had said quite honestly that he would've expected muscle memory to kick in at least. As so often in these situations, Tom had simply shrugged and put it aside. So far, there seemed to be no sign of his memory returning, and though he dreamed of blond hair and blue eyes, he didn't share that.

So he laughed along with Becky and distracted her, asking about her college course. Becky was the oldest of the four girls and in her final year on an art and design course. Early on she had flirted more with him, but when he displayed no interest she'd slipped into a more sisterly role. Becky drove with confidence, and it was less than ten minutes by Tom’s watch, when they pulled up outside the Muirden’s house in a leafy suburb on the outskirts of Taunton.

The driveway to the house was already full of cars, so Becky parked across the road and they were chatting and laughing together as they exited the car.

It was a quiet road, narrowing to become a country lane at the end and there was seldom any traffic, so they could be excused from taking only a cursory look before they set off, their attention on the door of the house, which was already swinging open. The chances of a stolen car, being hotly pursued by the police in another couple of cars racing along the street were slim. That was what happened however, and the cars seemed to appear from nowhere, speeding along at a frightening rate. 

Tom saw the horror in Edwin’s eyes as he stood at the door, and in that split second, saw Becky in the road, the cars totally unable to stop or get out of the way - assuming the drivers had even seen them.

“No!” He shouted out the word and something surged through him. It was as if everything around him slowed, a sudden sticky silence descending, providing just enough time for him to barrel across the road, grab Becky and throw them both out of the path of the cars. The car being chased swerved, clipping a wall and that was all Tom saw before they landed in a heap on the pavement and Tom was conscious of the shriek of brakes and Edwin’s shocked cry. For a moment they lay in a tangled pile, before they seemed to be surrounded by people; a white-faced police driver, Edwin, Hannah and the other girls, while a demented spaniel got into the act, sitting on them and trying to lick any patch of bare skin she could find.

It took some time to untangle themselves and deal with the inevitable questions and descriptions of what had happened and in the end it was Edwin, showing a stern authority Tom hadn't witnessed from him before, who got them into the house, their grazes dressed and got the fussing from the rest of the family down to a manageable level.

Later, Edwin drove Tom home, and as they sat in the car, he said. “I don’t know what happened tonight, Tom, but you saved my daughter’s life and as far as I’m concerned I owe you a debt. You’re a part of our family, now, Tom – and whatever you need, you only have to ask.”

Tom shook his head. “I don’t know what I’d have done without your help these past weeks. There’s no debt, none at all. I’m just glad I was there.” 

When Tom let himself into his flat, he stared at himself in the mirror, looking at his thick dark hair, and blue eyes full of despair. “Who are you?” he asked himself. “What did you do today? Why can’t you remember?”

**

In the end, it didn’t take long for Morgause to arrive in Camelot, which rather begged the question, Arthur thought, about why she was already so close, but he didn’t question her and reverted to treating her with a cool courtesy. He tried not to be jealous as Morgause and Morgana became instantly close.

Uther was less than happy when she appeared, but Arthur insisted that as she was Morgana’s kin, she'd be treated as an honoured guest. Uther’s response was to retreat to his own chambers more often than not, which suited them all well enough.

Arthur had also had a long discussion with Leon about the knights’ patrol schedules and Leon had left him with a glint in his eye and a lighter step.

When Arthur felt he was ready, he went to his father.

Uther was sitting, brooding, in his chambers and he barely looked at Arthur when he entered.

“I’m going to find Merlin. I’m going to bring him home, and I’m going to consider the place of magic in Camelot.”

“Are you now?” Uther took a deep drink. “How will you do that if I order my men to confine you to your chambers?”

Ignoring that for the moment, Arthur moved until he was looming over Uther. “I know everything, father. I know what happened when I was born and how you blamed magic because you couldn’t accept your own guilt. What would my mother say if she knew what you’ve done in the name of love?”

A spasm twisted Uther’s features at Arthur’s demand, but all he did in reaction was take another mouthful of his drink.

“It wasn’t just that night, you know. Merlin’s been protecting me, protecting you, protecting Camelot since the day he arrived. He was our only defence against magical threats; threats that only existed because of your actions. Congratulations, father, for removing our sole means of protection. Now we can only pray to the gods that we face no magical threats before I find him and bring him home.”

Arthur waited for his father to speak, but Uther said nothing.

“Your own men are all on patrol. My knights will escort you whenever you need to leave your chambers.”

“Your knights?”

“Men I've trained, men who are loyal to Camelot and to me.”

“Not to their king?”

Arthur raised his chin and met Uther’s eyes. Arthur's look was resolute and his expression was that of a man who knew his fate.

“I’ll return when I find Merlin. We’ll talk again then, father.”

When the room was quiet and empty, Uther stood and moved to the table. Smiling, he put down the goblet holding the water he'd been drinking and poured wine into a fresh goblet. Raising it to his lips, he chuckled, and then took a sip before raising it. “Ah, Ygraine, our boy is all grown up, now.” He sobered. “But it seems it’s not me we have to thank for it.”

 

**

Arthur walked to Morgana’s chambers, where they'd taken to meeting and carrying out their research. A disastrous trip to try and enlist the dragon’s help had resulted in the beast flying into a rage at the sight of Morgana and Morgause and nearly immolating them all. Since then an occasional roar rumbled through the ground and the Castle inhabitants and townspeople were scurrying around nervously.

Morgause and Morgana had been working through Merlin’s magic book and any other magical texts they could find, so far without much success. Gaius had appeared with any magical artifacts he could find, including a Sidhe staff. When Gaius explained how Merlin came to have it in his possession, Morgana had laughed at the story of Arthur’s enchantment but Morgause’s reaction was different.

“Merlin killed the Sidhe?” She asked.

“He did,” Gaius said.

“That is power indeed. Who is this boy, Gaius?”

Arthur looked between them, surprised at Morgause’s enquiry.

“The Druids have called him Emrys.” Gaius had mentioned this in his confession to Arthur, but Arthur hadn’t taken much note of it.

The effect on Morgause was immediate and Arthur was stunned to see the normally imperturbable woman so moved. “By the Triple Goddess,” she said, her voice shocked. “If this boy is Emrys, then we must get him back. This is his time; he holds so much power. That power in the wrong place could be catastrophic.” She pulled the book to her again. “There must be a way to find him.”

**

There were red sheets on the bed. He was lying on his back, naked and aroused, his hands twisting in the cool silk. The feel of it against his skin was delicious and he smiled wantonly at the man standing by the bed. The broad, beautiful, golden body was strong and muscled, and he was half aware of bright blond hair and clear blue eyes, before the face came closer and a mouth claimed his as if conquering an army. Fingers closed around him, jerking first gently and then with more purpose, while that sinful mouth continued to swallow his moans and cries of pleasure – 

A jangling, discordant sound cut through the pleasure and Tom was shocked out of the dream, heart racing and cock as hard as nails as he scrabbled around on the bedside table to find the alarm and shut it off.

He glared at his erection. It was the third time that week he’d had the same dream. Wearily, he finished himself off and headed for the shower. Only one more week to Christmas and he seemed to be working every moment of every day, never mind dealing with the fact he had no memories of Christmas or what he was supposed to be doing. Edwin kept telling him not to worry, but following his advice was becoming increasingly difficult.

With effort, he pushed the nagging unease away and readied himself for another day, resolutely trying not to wonder why the residual effects from the dream were nothing to do with the sex, and everything to do with yearning and a sense of loss.

**

It was Gwen, struggling through an ancient text, who found a possible solution. Arthur was almost beside himself with worry by now, snapping at everyone and alternating between scowling at the tomes surrounding them and pacing the room in a staccato rhythym. Even Morgana had ceased her teasing, casting either worried or irritated looks in his direction instead. For the first time, Arthur was grateful for Morgause’s presence as she ignored both his bad temper and his apologies and just treated him normally.

He was staring broodingly at the final page of yet another useless text when Gwen spoke.

“This text – I can’t quite make it out, but it seems to use the word ‘tempus’ many times.” She handed to book to Gaius, who was sitting at the table and Morgause joined him. Together they peered down at the page.

“What do you think?” Gaius asked Morgause after they had studied it for some time.

Morgause was staring at Arthur and there was something in her expression that looked suspiciously like amusement. “It’s a lovers' spell,” she said, and now he understood. “It will reunite lovers however parted, even through time itself.” She sobered as she looked at it. “If we use it, it will likely take Arthur to Merlin. I don’t know how we’ll bring you back.”

Arthur knew his own doubt and fear were clearly written in his features at the thought, but no-one drew attention to it, though Morgana’s hand closed around his. It should have concerned him that they were all so clear about the nature of his love for Merlin, but he accepted he hadn’t exactly been subtle during the previous days. He sighed.

“How can I leave Camelot?” he said. “How can I abandon my people – even for Merlin.”

“If Gaius is right and Merlin is indeed Emrys, then you've no choice. Bringing him back is more important than anything.”

Arthur acknowledged Morgause’s words, knowing she was right but also relieved because he could attempt to find Merlin based upon a reason beyond his own selfishness and need. “Gaius, you said Merlin sent himself through time with one word and his will alone. I’ll have to trust to him to get us home again.” It was a thin thread of hope and he knew he couldn't rely on it alone. He was silent for a while and then turned to Morgana. “If I don’t return, then you must take the throne."

“I? But I’m not a Pendragon. I've no right to rule.”

“Neither did Uther when he took Camelot. I know you’ll care for our people, and you’ll have Morgause to help you.” He was putting a great deal of trust in someone who’d manipulated him, but Arthur trusted in Morgause’s love for Morgana, even if he couldn’t trust her fully on his own account. For Merlin, he was ready to risk all.

“What do we have to do?” he asked.

**

“Two days before Christmas and we get another one – so much for a quiet shift. That there Doctor Muirden? He left his number didn’t he?” 

The local police sergeant, having been called out to an unconscious mystery man at South Cadbury for the second time in three months, looked askance at his colleague, as they waited for the ambulance.

“He did.”

Well, he said to call if we ever found another one.”

The sergeant pulled out his notebook and leafed through the pages until he found the right one. Looking approvingly at his constable, he got hold of his mobile phone and tapped in the number.

“Doctor Muirden? It’s Sergeant Hawkins here down at South Cadbury. We’ve got another one. Yes, sir, we’ll make sure he’s taken to the hospital in Taunton instead. We’ll see you there.”

**

Edwin Muirden stared down at the figure in the bed and sighed, wondering what reaction he'd get when this one woke up – which should be some time soon, if he recognised the signs.

As he waited, he recalled the rest of the conversation with the old man several months before. How he had wondered at the sudden roughness in he man's voice; at so much longing.

“Someone will come for him. Someone will come to take him home.”

It seemed that someone had arrived and Muirden studied the strong jaw of his patient, reckoning that whoever it was seemed to ooze character and strength – even asleep. There was something about him. Edwin shook himself and called on the nurse as the man gradually came to. Somehow, Edwin was convinced the sight of Doctor Muirden would elicit the same reaction as he had received from Tom.

Muddled and confused, their new mystery man stayed calm until his bright blue eyes saw Edwin, at which point Edwin’s prophesy was proven true.

“You! How?” Anger and disdain collapsed suddenly into confusion.

Edwin raised his eyebrows and ignored the reaction, opting for offering reassurance instead. “I’m Doctor Muirden and you’re quite safe here. How are you feeling? Do you remember anything?”

“Of course I remember. What is this place?”

“You were found unconscious and brought to Musgrove Hospital in Taunton. Do you know how you got to South Cadbury? Can you tell me your name?”

His patient was frowning down at himself. “My name is p… Arthur. Bring me my clothes immediately. I must leave.”

“I’d advise you to stay overnight,” Edwin said, ignoring the slip over the name. “Are you here looking for someone?”

Arthur’s eyes were like gimlets. “Why do you ask that?”

“Because almost three months ago, a young man was found more or less in the same place and same state as you were – except he has no memory.”

A flush of colour to Arthur’s face, followed by it draining to a deathly white, had Edwin hurrying over to take his pulse, and then he pushed Arthur back to lie supine on the bed.

“Listen to me, my boy. I’m going to arrange for a good meal, you’re going to have a night’s rest and then in the morning I’ll collect you and take you to him. I give you my word.”

Arthur was staring past him, tense under his touch but he was biting his lip and was obviously considering what Edwin was saying. 

Persuasive, Edwin added. “Your friend can’t remember who he is or where he came from, but he’s fit and healthy, I promise you. He’s in no danger and as he saved my daughter’s life, believe me, I’d give my own to protect him.”

“Really?” Arthur smiled then and there was such charm that Edwin felt an immediate draw to him, as if he'd follow Arthur wherever he led. Arthur continued. “He’s saved my life, too – more than once.” Sobering, he asked. “Why can’t he remember?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that – but seeing you may help. He can't even recall his name, I'm afraid, and we've been calling him Tom. There have been occasions, though, when something or someone familiar has triggered the return of memory and that may happen when he sees you." There was a pause while Edwin let that thought sink in. "Now, we need to get you some food and I’ve the distinct impression that you won’t be particularly impressed with the canteen offering.” Edwin noted Arthur's reactions to the fact Tom couldn't remember his name, wondering at the surprise. He fished out his phone, noting the sudden curiosity with which Arthur regarded it, and remembering how Tom had a similar reaction. Curiouser and curiouser. It was as if the sight of the gadget had triggered something in Arthur as he gazed around him, his eyes widening at the paraphernalia, and even more at the stark bright white of the fluorescent lights.

“Hannah, dear, I’ve had another lost soul delivered. I’ll tell you more later, but you couldn’t pop down with some good hot food, could you? Enough for a fairly hearty appetite, I’d warrant.”

While they waited, Edwin tried to coax more information out of Arthur and Arthur tried to demand more information from Edwin. Neither was giving much away, however, and both were grateful when the door opened and interrupted an increasingly tense conversation. Edwin knew his own face had creased into a smile - that was his usual reaction when he saw Hannah, after all - but he didn't expect Arthur’s response. Arthur grinned in what could only be described as delight and Edwin rushed to introduce them, wondering at Arthur's obvious pleasure.

“Arthur, this is my wife, Hannah.”

“Your wife?” Arthur looked surprised and then turned on the charm, holding his hand out to Hannah. She deposited the padded bags of food on the table and offered her own, blushing a fiery scarlet when he took hold of her fingers and turned the hand to kiss the back of it. “I’m delighted to meet you, Hannah.”

“Well, aren’t you a charmer? Looks like we really will have to lock up our daughters this time, Edwin.” She turned her attention to unpacking the bag, and the savoury smell had both men’s noses twitching.

Edwin, however, was still watching Arthur and something in his demeanour prompted his response. “Oh, I don’t think we’ll need to worry about that, my dear.”

Arthur flushed, but didn’t speak and after a quick exchange of looks with her husband, Hannah didn’t comment either.

“I’ve brought you some dinner, too, Edwin, seeing as how you rushed out without eating anything.” 

It turned into a surprisingly congenial occasion, as Arthur had obviously decided to turn his charm on them both and they shared a light conversation as they ate. Hannah had turned up trumps and there was enough carbohydrate in the cottage pie, a good comfort food, to fill Arthur and help him relax, and she hadn’t provided too large a portion. Interestingly enough, Edwin noted that Arthur’s reaction to the fizzy drink was exactly the same as Tom’s had been; suspicion followed by a grimace at the sweetness, and then drinking it without any further complaint.

Once Arthur had been reassured that Edwin would collect him the next morning, his obvious weariness took over and he settled down to sleep, unaware of the mild sedative Edwin had slipped into the fizzy drink.

As they left, Hannah pressed a kiss to Arthur’s forehead, and his sleepy eyes and warm smile made him look like a small boy.

**

When Edwin returned the next day, Arthur was already awake, was expressing an imperiousness more suited to royalty, and was clearly itching to leave. The nurses were fluttering around him, half amused and half outraged at his demeanour and orders, yet they couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Edwin hid his smile as he passed across the clothes he had brought, and saw the same reactions to the zip on the jeans, the curiosity at the way the buttons on the shirt worked, that Tom had shown. Even so, Arthur dressed quickly and they were soon on their way into the centre of Taunton. As it was the morning of Christmas Eve, the roads were busy and Edwin had plenty of time to chat to Arthur as they worked their way through the various sets of traffic lights. Recalling some of the issues Tom had faced, Edwin maintained a gentle narrative explaining cars, and traffic systems; anything in fact, that Arthur seemed phased by. Which was just about everything, but where the same things had distressed Tom because he thought he should know, with Arthur there was confusion and the wariness of a fighter poised for battle.

Edwin led him through the shop until they reached Tom’s area. They halted and beside him, Edwin heard the indrawn gasp as Arthur caught sight of Tom, who was standing with his back to them as he helped a customer. It reassured Edwin that Arthur had recognised Tom so immediately.

Tom turned and his smile faded as he stared across the room at Arthur. Almost in a trance, Tom walked towards them, his eyes fixed on Arthur, moving until he was standing in front of Arthur.

“I know you, don’t I?” Tom whispered.

Arthur’s voice was raw. “Of course you do, idiot.”

“Prat,” Tom said in response and then blinked, pressing his hand to his head. “Arthur,” he whispered. “You came for me?”

At that, Arthur reached out as if he couldn’t help himself, laying a gentle finger under Tom’s chin and raising it until they were eye to eye. “Ah, Merlin,” he said. “I'll always find you.”

With that, Tom – Merlin – threw his arms around Arthur, who gripped back just as tightly.

Edwin could only smile, and tried not to think too much about the fact that Tom’s real name seemed to be Merlin and they appeared to be called after men from an ancient legend.

 

**

 

Merlin, to Arthur’s obvious chagrin, refused point blank to leave the shop without completing his day’s work, and as Arthur refused to leave Merlin, Edwin left them both there, extracting a final promise from Merlin to be at the Muirdens' for Christmas the following day, and to bring Arthur with him.

As Edwin left, he paused by the door and turned to watch them. Merlin, his cheeks flushed, was helping yet another customer, and Arthur was watching him, hawk-eyed and following his every move from where he stood, arms folded, leaning against the wall. Arthur spared a moment to look across at Edwin, inclining his head slightly, as if he was a king giving a subject leave to depart. A shiver travelled the length of Edwin’s spine but he managed a smile in response before he made his way out of the store and escaped gladly to the chaotic Christmas Eve he loved so much.

**

Arthur wasn’t exactly bored, there was too much that was new, strange and downright baffling to look at; from what people – especially women – were wearing, to the bright lights, the myriad of totally useless things it seemed people could buy, not forgetting the whole Christmas thing, which Merlin, during one of his infrequent breaks, had tried to explain. Still, he was eager to find himself alone with Merlin somewhere where they could discuss how they were going to get home.

Merlin worked hard, but every few moments he would look across to see if Arthur was still there. Jenny, working feverishly herself, had taken the time to laugh at them and if Arthur recognised something about Jenny’s bouncing dark curls and her kindness, he didn’t remark on it to Merlin, whose memory seemed to still be rather patchy.

By the time the shop closed and they could leave, Arthur was exhausted just watching the hustle and bustle and was happy to stick close to Merlin as he collected his bike and they began the walk back to where Merlin was living. There was so much to say, and Arthur didn’t even know where to start, so apart from Merlin’s asides about life in this century, and waiting while Merlin made a brief side trip into another shop, conversation was at a minimum.

Eventually, they closed the door and Arthur looked around a space that was cosy and warm, if small. His attention wandered only for a moment, and then he turned to face Merlin.

“Muirden said you didn’t remember.”

“Not until I saw you. But I knew I was lost.” Merlin blushed, a deep hot red. “I dreamed of you though. Even if I hadn’t remembered when I saw you, I would have known I knew you.”

“You dreamed about me, hmm?” Arthur couldn’t quite mask the smugness in his tone, amused and strangely relieved when Merlin favoured Arthur with his customary eye roll.

Merlin hurried on, and Arthur saved the teasing for later. “How did you get here? You can’t have done it without magic. What about your father?”

Arthur moved across and settled himself on the sofa, waiting until Merlin sat down in the only armchair.

“Gaius told me everything. About how you were born with magic; how I was conceived using magic. I even met the dragon.” He grinned at Merlin’s grimace. “We didn’t really get on,” he said, hoping to make Merlin smile, but Merlin seemed almost hunched in on himself as Arthur spilled out all he had learned. Arthur continued. Might as well say it all. “I know about Morgana – and it was Morgause who helped us discover how to find you. I don’t know how we get back, though. She said you'd have to work that out.”

Merlin shook his head. “I’ve only just remembered I’ve got magic. I’ve got no idea what to do.”

Arthur could see the thought was beginning to distress Merlin and sought to distract him. “We can talk about it more, tomorrow. Where do you sleep?”

“You’re sitting on it. It’s called a sofabed. It folds out.”

“It’s the only bed?”

“Yes, Arthur, it’s the only bed.” Merlin's lips twitched.

“Where are you going to sleep tonight, then?” Arthur asked.

Merlin’s mouth dropped open in affronted shock. It was such a good look on him, Arthur grinned. Merlin picked up a cushion and threw it at him, smacking him squarely on the face.

“Well, well, have you been practicing, Merlin? Or did you do that by magic?”

“I don’t need magic to hit a head that size,” Merlin shot back, and then his grin faded and he stared at Arthur, eyes wide.

“What?” Arthur asked.

“I can’t believe we just joked about me using magic. I’ve wanted to tell you for such a long time.” He swallowed hard.

“We can talk about it all you want. Merlin,” Arthur hesitated for a moment, searching for the words he wanted. “I can’t promise I won’t be angry at some of the things you tell me. Gaius said you’ve had to make decisions that you knew I wouldn’t like.”

Merlin sighed, his expression suddenly troubled. “There are some things I’ve done that I’m still angry at myself about. I don’t mind you being angry – as long as I know you’ll forgive me.”

“Always.”

There was something in the way Arthur said the word that sent more bright colour to bloom on Merlin’s cheeks, and Arthur felt his own skin heat as their eyes caught.

Merlin dropped his gaze and changed the subject, talking about getting them something to eat, and about some of the strange things he'd encountered in a time so far removed from their own. The rest of the evening was spent in comfortable conversation, and if there was an undercurrent growing as the evening progressed, neither of them alluded to it.

 

**

There was an awkwardness as Merlin pulled the bed out and dragged the covers from the cupboard. When it was ready they looked at one another. 

“I suppose I’ll let you share,” Arthur said.

“It’s my bed, you pillock.”

“Pillock? That means something good, I’m sure.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and turned away shyly as he began to undress. Arthur followed suit, feeling unaccountably nervous himself. There was no doubt in his mind where this was heading and what he wanted to happen, but Merlin’s unusual shyness was telling its own story. This wasn't likely to be a quick fumble; the release of tension he'd shared with his knights on campaign, but something altogether more important. Arthur needed to get this right.  
Taking a deep breath, he began to divest himself of the strange clothing. The shirt was easy, but for some reason the fastening on the trousers stuck and he was left huffing and puffing and becoming increasingly annoyed.

“What on earth are you doing?” Merlin seemed to have lost his shyness for the moment, in the face of Arthur’s struggles. 

“I can’t get this damn thing…”

“Oh, for – lie down on the bed. You really are a Prince aren’t you? Still haven’t learned how to undress yourself. Here.”

Merlin made him lie flat, then sat down by Arthur’s hips, bending over the work at the opening.

“You’ve caught some material in the zipper. Hang on.”

Arthur felt his heart rate kick up and parts of his anatomy started to take distinct notice as Merlin, without another word, stuck one hand down Arthur’s trousers, laughing up at him as Arthur squeaked in protest.

“I’m just trying to get it uncaught.” More fiddling took place, which seemed to involve a remarkable amount of Merlin bending close to Arthur’s crotch, as well as the touch of Merlin’s fingers. By the time Merlin did manage to release him, pulling the zip down with something of a flourish, all Arthur could do was grab Merlin and roll until Merlin was lying under him.

Now it was Merlin’s turn to squeak.

“I think you’re a tease,” Arthur said.

Merlin was smiling up at him, looking so happy it almost took Arthur’s breath away.

“Have you lain with a man before, Merlin?

He shook his head.

“Women?”

A hesitation and then another shake of the head, before Merlin confessed softly. “There was a girl. I kissed her.” 

Merlin's happiness was overlain with a certain confusion and pain, and again all Arthur could do was react, his words deserting him. Instead, he leaned down and gently, so gently, pressed his lips to Merlin’s.

Merlin sighed against his mouth and when Arthur drew back, the shadows had been chased from Merlin’s expression and he was smiling once more.

Arthur traced the shape of Merlin’s face, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, and moved to capture his lips once again. This time the kiss became passionate as Merlin grew in confidence. Arthur pressed against him, aligning their hips and beginning to gently roll against Merlin. Merlin broke their kiss with a gasp, and began to scrabble between their bodies, scrambling to get the rest of their clothes off.

“Merlin, magic… use it.”

“What do you mean … oh.” There was a muttered word and a flash of gold, and Merlin was grinning bashfully at him.

More importantly, they were both naked although who knew where their clothes had ended up. Arthur shook his head in amusement and then turned his attention to taking Merlin’s virginity with as much care and love as he could.

Arthur slid to the side slightly, allowing him to grasp their cocks. His hand was dry, but he kept his touch gentle, not expecting either of them to last long.

“Arthur, Arthur,” Merlin was clutching at him, thrusting into his touch and pulling him closer.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Merlin, you can let go now. I’ll look after you, I promise. You’re safe now. You’re safe.” Arthur panted out the words, hearing Merlin cry out, and Arthur felt the heat of his release spilling over them both, Merlin's come easing the rough glide of skin on skin and it was only seconds later that Arthur felt his own climax wash over him.

Arthur took some time to regain his breath, and when he could pay attention to anything beyond his own skittering heartbeat, he became aware that Merlin’s chest was heaving and his arm was across his face. Arthur shifted their bodies, pulling Merlin so his back was to Arthur’s front, letting Arthur wrap his arms around Merlin and bury his face in the back of Merlin’s neck, pressing comforting kisses against the skin. Arthur didn’t try to speak, giving Merlin the time he needed. 

Eventually, Merlin tangled his fingers with Arthur’s and brought Arthur’s hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, the tips of his fingers, the inside of his wrist. It was unbearably tender and erotic all at the same time and if Arthur wasn’t already exhausted he might've been considering another round. Merlin, he decided, was going to be addictive. 

“Covers,” he said.

A watery chuckle was followed by the soft touch of the quilt settling on top of them.

“You’re going to be taking advantage of my magic all the time, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely, your magic's mine to command.” Arthur tried to be haughty but knew he'd failed, the fondness leaching through, tightening his hold when Merlin responded.

“It's yours, Arthur, it is.”

“You’re mine,” Arthur had always been possessive and he saw no reason to change that where Merlin was concerned. He'd always been self-contained, too, though, never giving too much away to anyone who had shared his bed. Except for now. “And I’m yours, Merlin.”

Merlin squeezed his hand tightly.

They slept then, deeply, tangled together. Comfortable and at peace.

 

**

They woke slowly the next morning, to a quieter world than Arthur had known in this time, and it was only the absence of sound that made him realise it. When his eyes blinked open, Merlin was staring at him and without saying a word, Merlin reached out and curved his hand around Arthur's cheek, stroking his thumb back and forth across stubbled skin. Merlin smiled sweetly and leaned in and Arthur grinned into the kiss as Merlin became bold. They made love, and Arthur discovered that the teasing that was so much a part of their friendship, translated into laughter as well as passion. It was a revelation and as he lay, panting and spent, with Merlin draped over him, he thought he'd never been as happy in his life. Even knowing they'd have to deal with Uther when they returned couldn't dampen Arthur's joy, seeing it reflected in Merlin's gaze as he laughed down at Arthur.

**

Arthur wasn’t too sure about spending time at the Muirdens, rather muddled by Merlin’s attempts to explain Christmas and all that seemed to go around it. In the end, Merlin had pressed the point of Hannah’s cooking, and that had clinched it.

“Now your memory’s back, you do realise –“

“Yes,” Merlin stopped him, tilting his head and smiling a little. 

Arthur was about to ask what it might mean, to travel so far in time and find such familiar faces, but Merlin grabbed his hand, grabbed a bagful of gaily wrapped parcels and pulled him out of the flat. They clattered down the steps and out to where the Muirden’s second daughter, Anna, was waiting behind the wheel of the car.

 

**

Arthur watched from across the room as Merlin chatted to Edwin’s parents, who had joined the family party. The afternoon and evening had been spent in eating, drinking and talking. It was a merry gathering and when Arthur had been introduced by Merlin, who was adorably shy about it, he'd been pulled into the family without any sign of hesitation. It was fortunate that he didn’t have to speak too much, because many of the references totally escaped him, but he smiled, and watched Merlin and tried not to blush at the fond looks directed at himself.

Once the food and drink had been cleared away, and a number of ridiculous games had been played, presents were given out, Arthur touched by the little pile of parcels that amassed by him, even though they'd not known until very late that he'd be joining them.

Edwin beckoned to him from across the room and he joined him, following him from the room and aware of Merlin trailing along behind.

They wandered into what Edwin referred to as a study and he closed the door, shutting out the calls and laughter from the main room.

“I was asked to give you this,” Edwin said.

Merlin’s hand trembled as he took the old parchment, starting a little at the sight of his name on the front of the sealed packet. Arthur looked over his shoulder as he broke the wax seal and opened it out. He couldn’t understand what was written, but had spent enough time poring over magic books when they were trying to reach Merlin, that he knew instinctively it was a spell.

“How did you get this?” he asked.

“The old man again?” Merlin said.

“Yes, I saw him this morning when I was out with Dilly. I invited him to spend Christmas with us, but he refused.”

“I think, I think we’ll be going home soon. Will you be able to deal with the flat for me? I won’t be able to take anything.”

“Of course I will, my boy.” Edwin was clearly swallowing questions, and didn’t ask any of them. “Come back to the family for a final glass of champagne. I’ll explain everything to them once you’ve gone.”

Arthur was grateful for that, because he'd no idea how they could possible tell anyone the truth.

Before they left the room Merlin said, “I’ll try to find a way to let you know we made it home.”

There was a great round of goodbyes, lots of hugs and kisses and Arthur was pleased to see how much they seemed to love Merlin, and how sweet he was with the girls. His eyes narrowed as Merlin spoke quietly to Becky for a few moments and held her close for long moments. When they broke apart, Becky looked across at Arthur and began giggling. Arthur pulled a frightful face at her as she turned Merlin around and pushed him in Arthur’s direction.

Eventually, they left the house turning to wave at the family who'd turned out onto the front drive, the warm light spilling behind them. Arthur took Merlin’s hand and interlinked their fingers, realising that leaving the family and knowing he wouldn’t see them again was upsetting Merlin.

As they walked back to the flat, Arthur said. “That was the way he should've been, Edwin, isn’t it? If my father hadn’t killed his parents?”

“Perhaps, who knows?” Merlin didn’t seem to want to discuss it and so Arthur let it drop, squeezing Merlin’s hand, before pulling him closer so he could wrap an arm around Merlin's waist as he urged them back towards the flat.

They didn't see the old man who watched them from the shadows, his eyes hungrily fixed on Arthur and his expression wistful.

 

**

Merlin and Arthur made their way back to the flat and then changed into their clothes from Camelot. 

“Are you ready?” Arthur asked.

Merlin reached forward, pulling Arthur into his arms and kissing him soundly. “Now I’m ready,” he said when they broke apart.

Twining their fingers together, Merlin began the incantation, eyes glowing and a wind swirling around them.

After a few moments, the wind dropped.

The room was empty.

**

Epilogue

“Dad?”

“What’s up, Lily?” Edwin put down the book he was reading and peered at his youngest daughter over the rim of his spectacles. He smiled at her. Lily was the quietest of the set of twins that rounded out his family of four girls, and though he loved them all more than he could ever express, he had a soft spot for quiet, studious Lily, so different in character from her identical twin, Lucy.

“I met an old professor at the university in Bristol today.”

“Oh yes?” Edwin didn’t think much of it. Lily had recently started a degree in history, so meeting academic staff didn’t seem particularly out of the way.

“He asked me to give you this.”

“Me?” That caught Edwin’s interest and he reached out to take the bundle she was holding out to him. As he unwrapped the waxed cloth, he uncovered a slim volume, clearly ancient. Carefully, he opened it and gasped aloud as the bright, vibrant colours leaped from the page.

There were pictures of castles, towns, and knights jousting, dragons and unicorns and at the bottom was a margin, peopled by figures in early medieval garb. Scrabbling in a drawer, he pulled out a magnifying glass and stared, working his way along the row. There were two women, one dark and one blonde, another woman with dark curls next to a knight with a flowing red cape. an elderly scholar and then some more knights. At the end, two figures stood apart, though close to one another: two men, one dark-haired and one blond, each man wearing a circlet. As he looked at the detail in delight, he caught sight of another small group in the top right hand corner, looking at them, his breath caught in his throat: a man and a woman standing behind four younger women, the man's arms artificially elongated surrounded them all in a way that expressed care and protection.

Edwin laughed aloud, partly in pleasure and partly in surprise, and turned to the front page to read the words.

_The legend of King Arthur and his sorcerer Merlin being the tale of the joining of the lands of Albion and the golden age._

 

Fin.


End file.
